Photosynthesis
by thegirlwhocriedbadwolf
Summary: "Never let your true self show to the perverse world of soft decay that's present. Nobody will ever understand you and how you operate; How you care about sunsets and dying elm trees and the taste of the summer breeze on your tongue. Searching for that person will leave you empty and lonely. The human condition. Cultivate it. Its such a liability to love someone." Modern CatoxClove
1. There's A Coffee Stain Around Your Eyes

"Now isn't really a good time, Jo.'' I yell smoothly into the payphone over the loud rain pelting down onto the telephone booth.

''Well then fuck you, because I have some shite to say.'' She begins, going into her rant mode. Stage 1; blabbering on and on about how boring gymnastics is without me. Stage 2; the new party gossip that has been going around; who lost their virginity, fell off the wagon, got arrested. And finally, Stage 3; telling me about how much Grant is asking about me.

''That's nothing new.'' I mutter fiercely, waving Finnick off as he holds up two burgers from the gas station nearby.

''Yeah, well, I'm sick and tired of hearing how perfect you are, so deal with this when you get back.''

''I won't _make_ it back if you don't let me off the goddamned phone!'' I hiss, too bothered to properly hang it up. I leave it loosely hanging on its wire before running out from underneath the shelter of the booth, covering my head with my bag. I storm into the McDonald's, joining everyone else at the booth in the middle of the empty restaurant.

''Fuck everything.'' I state bluntly, folding my arms.

''Good morning to you too, sunshine.''

''Oh can it, Gallagher. Its three-thirty in the fucking morning, I'm soaking wet, our plane leaves in less than two hours, and you people are here eating fucking... _McChicken Bites?_'' I scowl, flicking the empty nugget box across the table.

''Clo, calm your tits.'' Marvel rolls his hazel eyes, still clouded with sleep deprivation. ''What tits?'' Cato remarks, smirking like a schoolboy.

''Good one, steroids.'' I shoot back, kicking him fiercely in the shin under the table.

''Will you guys stop trying to kill each other for at least half an hour so we can actually manage to make our flight?'' Peeta glares in Cato's direction before ordering us all up and out into the piss-warm rain to wait for the bus.

* * *

I sigh, chucking my keys onto the black marble countertop and kicking off my sandals.

The best vacation of my life? More like the most exhausting vacation of my life.

I'm barely able to drag my sun burnt body up the stairs without causing enough friction to make me curse in agony. Releasing the blue strap of my duffel bag from my grasp, taking two long-legged strides to my bed. My back connects with the soft demeanor of my old mattress, and I breathe in the comforting scent of sandalwood and ginger, the aroma that fills the entire house. _Lumen and Mum won't be back for another few days_, I think to myself. I guess some things are sweeter once you have to wait for them...

I exhale with a grunt as I pry myself off of my warm bed, and into my bathroom. I flick on the obnoxiously bright lights that round the circumference of the large mirror that looms above the sink and peel off my clothes, stepping into the shower. I shout insanities as the cold water pelts my raw back. Quickly and vigorously, I wash the sand from my hair that remains from all those days spent on the beaches. I turn the water off and pull the curtain open, steam clouding the large ensuite. I wipe my hand across the mirror, scowling back at my reddened cheeks and shoulders that look ten times worse because of the litter of freckles that cover me. I hang my damp towel on the ring and tie my raven locks into a knot on the top of my head.

Stepping out of the bathroom, the cold hits my body like a ton of bricks, and goosebumps appear everywhere on my skin. I swiftly plug my iPod into its' docking station and pull on some underwear, along with a Janis Joplin tee that covers just to my knees and hangs carelessly off my shoulders. _''There's a coffee stain around your eyes, and lines that I don't recognize. Everything changed from bein' OK, the night that you came home so late...'' _I sing softly under my breath, strumming a tune that my fingers have grown accustomed to playing on this old piece of shite guitar. I startle, hearing gun shots coming from outside, and glide over to my window, drawing the charcoal curtains back. _Of course, _I think to myself, and prance down the stairs, out through the patio door, and into the surprisingly warm weather, a slight breeze threatening to kill it any minute, and blowing strands of frizzy baby hairs free from my bun.

''Let me show you how its done.'' I announce playfully, smirking as I crawl through a small gap in the fence, emerging in the backyard of my best friend of over 12 years, Gale.

He puts his hands up in surrender and hands me the '22 Caliber rifle with a toothy grin, confident that I'll miss. The weapon feels familiar in my small hands and I cock it easily, pulling it back up to my shoulder. _One, breathe... Two, don't breathe... Three, exhale._ I fire as the air leaves my lungs, staggering back slightly at the kick-back of the gun, and hearing the satisfying _ding! _of my bullet hitting the pie tin that's nailed to a tree.

''Damn you.'' Gale announces as he checks to see where I hit.

''And that,'' I bow regally, ''is how its done.''

He rolls his eyes and takes the rifle from me, shooting urgently. ''Stop rushing it,'' I say, suddenly serious, ''that's why you're missing.'' He raises his eyebrows and I scoff. ''Here.'' I place the rifle in both of his hands, reaching over his shoulder and putting my trigger finger over his. I breathe in slowly and exhale as I put slight pressure on his finger, and knowing it hit the direct center.

''How do you _do_ that?'' He asks in bewilderment, verifying the bullet hole.

''Magic.'' Or maybe all those long days and nights spent hunting with my father since I could walk.

''Seriously, Clo.'' He says, putting the safety on it and leaning the rifle against the tree trunk.

''A good magician never reveals her secrets.'' My tone comes out sounding more mischievous than anticipated.

He turns back around, mouth open to say something, but the backyard is empty. I'm already back in my room.

* * *

''Well too bad. We're coming over, and I don't care if I have to drag you there by your knickers, you are _going_ to that party.'' Johanna states flatly after I plead my case, and I know there's no room for negotiation.

''Whatever. Just don't expect too much from me tonight.'' I exhale, a note of clear surrender in my voice.

''Do I ever?'' She quips back, her voice coated with artificial sweetener and cut off by the dial tone.

Half an hour later I reluctantly plunge my spoon deep into my ice cream, abandoning it on the coffee table to get the door.

''Missed you, fucker.'' Jo greets in her usual blunt manner, strutting past me with two overnight bags and Annie trailing meekly behind her.

''Hey Annie.'' I offer with a smile, trying not to scowl as I glimpse Johanna climbing the stairs to my room, planning to do God-knows-what.

''Hi... How was your trip?'' Her sea green eyes bear genuine interest, and I shrug.

''It sure as Hell was nice getting away from all this drizzle. But I'm burnt to a crisp.'' I joke, turning and closing the door large wooden door. She accepts this as an answer and skips up the carpeted stairs, looking for Johanna.

''In here.'' She pipes up from my room. I roll my eyes and follow Annie up, replying to Katniss's text asking if I'm going to the party.

''Clove. Do you _ever_ clean up in this bitch?'' Jo asks, lining her shite across my dresses like she owns the place, her usual demeanor.

''Nope.'' I reply, sinking down into my bed and popping the 'p'. Annie giggles and I smirk over at her.

''Alright,'' Johanna starts, spinning around to face us in my desk chair. ''let's make you presentable, Clove.''

* * *

''Get that fucking torture contraption away from me!'' I growl, swatting Madge's hand away as she tries to curl my eyelashes. Madge and Katniss joined us a half an hour later, along with the boys who're downstairs in the basement, probably fucking around on my Xbox.

''I swear to you guys, if you fuck with my shite on Black Ops 2 I wills castrate you all with plastic forks!'' I yell down to them, distracting myself long enough for Madge to attack me with mascara. ''Goddamn it!'' I mutter in defeat as Madge steps away from me, smiling at her work.

''I've created a masterpiece!'' She exclaims with bright blue eyes, the excited shake of her head sending her wild blond curls in all directions. She clasps her hands together. For emphasis. Johanna pokes her head out from my bathroom, where she's fucking with Katniss's hair.

She shrugs and tugs the ends of her lips down, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows and admitting, ''Not bad.''

''Can I stand up now? My butt's asleep.'' I plead and Madge frowns but complies at my request. I wander over to my closet, stepping over the bags and garments that litter my bedroom floor, courtesy of my messy friends.

''What do I wear?'' I ask, completely clueless, sticking my shirtless torso out from the large cupboard that occupies the space next to my bathroom. Annie presses a perfectly manicured finger to her lip, furrowing her eyebrows.

''Hmmm...'' She ponders, sifting through the cluttered mess, the occasional shirt flying out from behind the door. She steps out with a pair of tiny polka-dotted shorts, and a loose cream-coloured cotton button-down that I swear I didn't even know I had. I trust she knows what she's talking about, and gratefully take the clothes from her, changing into them next to Katniss and Jo in the bathroom.

I frown when I look at my reflection in the mirror. Minimal makeup; just some mascara, and concealer to hide the dark circles that occupy my under-eyes. Which I'm happy about. My hair hangs in its natural waves down to my waist, tied half-up in the back with a bow. The thing that makes me entirely self-conscious is the button-down.

''This shirt is see-through.'' I mutter, looking at Jo and Kat for a solution.

''We're going to be swimming, Clo. Just wear a bikini underneath.'' Katniss shrugs, clearly as annoyed as I am with this whole getting dressed up thing. She curses multiple times when Johanna un-intentionally burns her with the curling iron. I exit the bathroom, whistling at Madge who's in a navy sundress that hugs her curvaceous figure, accentuating every dramatic turn, and complimenting her tanned skin, and bound down the stairs, turning down the hall towards the living room and through a door that leads down into the basement.

''Alright you little wormfucks. Time to get schooled.'' I grab the controller from Finnick and plop down in his lap after I enter, immediately taking over. ''Saints Row the Third. Nice choice.'' I compliment with a smirk, sticking my tongue out slightly in concentration as I finish a mission, then start running over prostitutes for my own sick, twisted amusement.

* * *

Katniss eventually joins us, earning a few cat calls, along with a blush from Peeta so red he resembles a fire hydrant. Out of my peripheral vision, I notice Cato openly looking at me continuously.

''Got a staring problem, Regan?'' I ask with a smirk, not taking my eyes off of the TV screen.

''Busted.'' Finnick adds shifting me in his lap so he can face the now pink-cheeked Cato.

''Whatever, man-whore.'' He shoots, but I sense he doesn't intend to actually hurt him

Finn shrugs and wraps his arms around me, planting a giant kiss on my cheek. ''Being a man-whore has its advantages.'' He wags his eyebrows and I squeal, whipping back around to face him. ''You made me die!'' I whine, folding my arms.

''It was worth it.''

''Are you dickwads ready to go?'' Johanna emerges from the corner, followed by Annie and Madge. She jingles the keys in her hands and we all get up, making our way to the car.

I slam the door behind me, taking the second vehicle with Katniss, Cato, and Annie. Clicking my seatbelt into place, I put my old truck into reverse, backing out of the driveway and following close behind Johanna's familiar candy apple red Beetle. As I pull onto the curb in front of Blight's house, I freeze.

''Sweet Jesus...'' I mumble. We follow the patterned stone path that leads to the two shiny black doors, and I feel even smaller up close to the elaborate estate.

''Hey guys!'' The door opens, and we're greeted by the effervescent blond, Gloss, drink in one hand, broad in the other. I pick my jaw up off the floor and stroll in casually, looking over my shoulder every now and then to see if my 'posse' has abandoned me. I cut through the thick crowd and make my way through the French doors that lead the the backyard, which luckily isn't as crowded as the mansion.

''Told you this would be fucking awesome.'' Johanna exclaims, handing me a beer and clinking it with hers. I make my way over to the fire with Madge and sip on my drink every now and then. Underage drinking isn't really hard to penetrate, especially in Ireland. Peeta's got an older brother, Nolan, so alcohol isn't hard to get ahold of. No that I'm that much of a drinker, anyways.

''Let's play some Truth or Dare.'' Finnick grins, wagging his eyebrows infamously.

''This isn't elementary, Finn.'' Madge scoffs, taking another swig out of her plastic red cup.

''Hey, you're never too old for Truth or Dare.'' He says back, pointing a finger at her.

''Oh right, I forgot. You're still a child. Face it, Finn. No matter how big your dick gets, you've still got the brain of an eleven year old.'' He grins proudly at her obvious insult, and I snicker at their little banter. ''We playin' or not, fuckers?'' Johanna chimes in, joining us with the others trailing behind her. I nod reluctantly, and Katniss plops down next to me, the slight breeze tugging at the thin straps of her tank top, threatening to expose something, much to the blokes' liking. Her rain grey eyes are rimmed slightly with eyeliner, hardly enough to notice, and they hold a care-free quality tonight.

''I'll go first.'' Johanna grins smugly, occupying the lawn chair next to Marvel. ''Gallagher; truth or dare?''

''Dare.'' He finally decides after a long drink from his bottle.

Jo's eyebrows furrow, and the crinkle in her forehead that appears when she's doubting herself greets us. ''I dare you to down a shot of pure vinegar.'' He narrows his eyes and we all eagerly follow him back into the house. I climb the counters, littered with bowls of snacks and cups full of whatever blue concoction they've come up with this time, and reach the top drawer, grabbing the jug of vinegar. Peeta smacks a shot glass down in front of him and I carefully pour the acidic substance into the cup slowly but surely, filling it to the brim. ''Drink up.'' I smile, handing the glass to him.

We all watch intently, and he squints his eyes. ''Fuck it.'' He mutters, bringing it to his lips and downing it.

There are no words for the sounds he makes after it. ''Fucking Jesus.'' He spits, grabbing a bottle of Pepsi and chugging it straight from the bottle, frantically trying to relieve his mouth from the awful taste. In the midst of my laughing, I bang straight into someone.

I turn around, wiping a tear from my eye. ''Oh, sorr-'' My emerald eyes darken and I feel myself go rigid. ''You again.'' I growl, ready to put that lonely butter knife resting on the counter through his head.

''Nice to see you too, babe.'' He sneers, looking me up and down with hungry eyes. ''My oh my...'' He grins sadistically, taking another swig of the black liquid that fills his cup.

''Don't call me that, James.'' I say through gritted teeth and feel eyes watching me, then a protective hand wrap gently around my arm. I yank it free and close in on the bastard. ''I thought I made it clear that if I ever saw your face again, it would be the last time _you'd _ever see _anything._''

''Yeah, yeah. Still rolling with that touch girl act, huh Clover? I've got to say, its quite enticing...'' He snakes a finger from my shoulder to my exposed collar bone. I grab his hand, twisting it back, and hear a satisfying snap.

"'If you even come within a fifty kilometer radius of me ever again, British bastard, I will personally slit your throat while you sleep.'' I mumble into his ear before stomping on his toe and basically running out of the house and into my truck, slamming my head against the steering wheel and letting out a few frustrated screams.

''Clo...'' I hear Peeta's soft voice, carried by the mid-summer breeze through my window.

''I'm going home.'' I mumble into my hands, not making a move.

''We'll be right behind you.'' Annie places a comforting, fragile hand on my shoulder. I hear a few doors slam, and the sweet hum of Johanna's car starting, before I'm lifted out of the vehicle with two strong, yet careful arms, and gently placed into the back seat, still curled up in a ball, the whole way home.

* * *

**Hey! So, I hope this chapter makes up for the few days I haven't posted anything. I'm still quite busy with basketball, we have lots of tournaments coming up again, starting tomorrow. Thank you people for the cute little reviews, it makes me feel so special c; Ahaha, okay peeps. Adios and enjoy (you better, because its currently 2:36am, and I felt obliged to get this up for you, huehuahuehuae)!**

** -Lennon**


	2. You're So Vain

**A/N: Your reviews are always so positive, its very refreshing :3 Anyways, as always, I do not own the Hunger Games or any characters used in this Fic, exceptions to James, Grant, and Clove's mother and sister (even though they're not important c;). I also do not own any of the songs used in this chapter, all rights do to their owners. Cato's POV! Start readin', you little eskimo ducks. **

* * *

I wake on an unfamiliar leather couch, the inviting scent of pancakes fill my nostrils and my stomach gets the best of me. I prop myself up on my elbows, poking my head over the top of the caramel-coloured sofa, and see Clove sitting on the counter in between the litter of dishes and plates stacked high with food, swinging her toned legs enthusiastically, while Peeta cooks a load of breakfast.

"Going somewhere, dwarf face?" I tease, getting up and digging through the half-empty refrigerator.

"Running, steroids." She replies, crunching into her apple and scowling at me through those deep pools of green. "Bye Peet." She hops off the counter and kisses his cheek platonically, before pulling on a pair of trainers and heading out the door, that all-too-familiar sway of the curve of her hips taunting me.

"What's with you and Clove?" I question, slight jealousy radiating off of me as I - hopefully - casually take a sip of water, trying to lessen the throbbing pain of a hangover coursing through my entire body.

He looks at me as if I'm riding a unicycle, juggling 6 fiery batons, whilst playing the ukulele with me feet. "Nothing. Where've you been for the past forever?" He furrows his eyebrows and I shrug, scratching the back of my head, a weight lifting off of my shoulders. He puts the ladle down and faces me. "Cato, I don't know what your intentions are, but Clove is off-limits." He states bluntly. "I know your type."

"Wouldn't dream of it, O'Keeffe." _Off-limits? What does he mean 'off-limits'?_

Peeta eyes me cautiously before turning back to his scrambled eggs and juice-maker. I take another gulp of water before walking outside, spotting her with her leg propped up on the patio railing.

"Mind if I join you?" She startles and looks up from tying an elaborate knot on one of her shoes.

"Yes." She puts her headphones in, lightly jogging in the other direction.

"Too bad." I smirk and catch up to her, keeping a steady pace. In the dim morning light I can just barely make out all the things I love about her; the scatter of freckles littered across her porcelain features, the curve of her nose, her tiny ears. The way her hair waves behind her in a curtain of black. The dangerous glint in those otherwise child-like green eyes, and the haunting hollowness of her cheeks. How every step she takes provokes her muscles, etched through her thin hoodie and gym shorts. The slight curves of her fragile body.

"Buzz off, steroids." She glares up at me intensely. Little does she know, I don't back down that easily.

"Make me." I retort obnoxiously, a playful glint in my eye. She sighs with exasperation and picks up the pace, hoping to rid herself of my annoying presence. "Its gonna take more than sprinting to shake me, babydoll."

She whips back around, her hair flying around her. I'd swim through a thousand oceans just to get hit in the face with that fucking ponytail...

"Go away, Cato." Her eyes narrow, a murderous gleam in them. She plays hardball? Well, so do I.

"On one condition."

She raises her dark eyebrows, leaning on one foot. "Well?"

"I get to take you to the pictures."

She rolls her eyes. "Not in this lifetime, steroids."

"Then I'm not leaving."

She puts her face into her hands, sighing with irritation, rubbing her temples. "Meet us at The PunchBowl, 9:30. Does that satisfy you, fucker?"

I grin widely. "Yes, very much so." She spins on her heel and keeps a steady pace toward the end of the road, eventually turning down Elton Street. I watch her until her small figure disappears from my vision, and the blur of her swinging ponytail fades. _Wait...__**Us?**_

* * *

"This place is quite loud..." Annie states quietly, tucking a loose chocolate curl behind her ear.

"Oh come on, Annie. Be reckless for once!" Finn swings his arm around her coyly, causing her to blush vigorously; man, this guy is _good_.

I glance over at Clove and she almost immediately meets my gaze with that fiery glare of hers. I raise my hands up in defeat. "Loosen your corset, dwarf face. Have a drink." I tease obnoxiously, sliding her a cola from across the table. She glowers at me, pushing it away before Peeta drags her up onto a small stage.

"Wait... This is a karaoke club?" I ask dumbly and Johanna scoffs.

"Duh, brainless."

The commencement of a familiar tune hums through the loud amplifiers placed in every corner, hidden by tacky fake plants.

"I'd like to dedicate this song to Cato, sitting right over there at table number 4." Clove smiles sweetly at me, pointing in my direction, and a look of confusion washes over my face.

_"You walked into the party,_

_Like you were walkin' onto a yacht._

_Your hat strategically dipped below one eye,_

_Your scarf it was apricot._

_You had one eye in the mirror as,_

_You watched yourself gavotte._

_And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner,_

_They'd be your partner and;_

_You're so vain._

_You probably think this song is about you,_

_You're so vain._

_I bet you think this song is about you, _

_Don't you, don't you._

_You had me several years ago,_

_When I was still quite naive._

_Well you said that we made such a pretty pair,_

_And that you would never leave._

_But you gave away the things you loved,_

_And one of them was me. _

_I had some dreams, there were clouds in my coffee,_

_Clouds in my coffee and,_

_You're so vain._

_You probably think this song is about you,_

_You're so vain._

_I bet you think this song is about you,_

_Don't you, don't you, yeah._

_Well I hear you went up to Saratoga,_

_And your horse naturally won,_

_You flew your Lear jet up to Nova Scotia,_

_To see the total eclipse of the sun, _

_ Well you're where you should be all of the time,_

_And when you're not you're with,_

_Some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend,_

_Wife of a close friend, and..._

_You're so vain._

_You probably think this song is about you,_

_You're so vain._

_I bet you think this song is about you;_

_Don't you, don't you, don't you..."_

She mouths; 'Love you.' and makes a heart with her hands sarcastically, before strutting back to our table and sitting down confidently, her intention was to probably get the message across that she isn't interested by a long shot; but I don't care. I hardly care that the whole club is leering at me, and that Finnick just fell out of his seat laughing, or that I spilled my drink on my shirt. All I can think about now is how mesmerizing that breathy, raspy voice was...

"Snap out of it, loverboy." Madge waves a hand in front of my face and giggles.

"Oh, so you're just gonna back down that easily? Really Cato, I expected you to put up more of a fight." Clove sneers at me, folding her small arms in triumphant victory.

I narrow my eyes and walk up to the stage. "Let the battle... commence." I utter dramatically, smirking at her.

_"Well, I took a stroll on the old long walk _

_Of a day -I-ay-I-ay _

_I met a little girl and we stopped to talk _

_Of a fine soft day -I-ay-I-ay _

_And I ask you, friend, what's a fella to do _

_'Cause her hair was black and her eyes were blue _

_And I knew right then I'd be takin' a whirl 'Round the Salthill Prom with a Galway girl _

_We were halfway there when the rain came down _

_Of a day -I-ay-I-ay _

_And she asked me up to her flat downtown _

_Of a fine soft day -I-ay-I-ay _

_And I ask you, friend, what's a fella to do _

_'Cause her hair was black and her eyes were blue _

_So I took her hand and I gave her a twirl _

_And I lost my heart to a Galway girl _

_When I woke up I was all alone _

_With a broken heart and a ticket home _

_And I ask you now, tell me what would you do _

_If her hair was black and her eyes were blue _

_I've traveled around I've been all over this world _

_Boys I ain't never seen nothin' like a Galway girl."_

She rolls her eyes, and then narrows them, her thin lips curving into a sick smile. She runs up to the stage with me and whispers something into the DJ's ear - I'm surprised he can even hear her over the saggy mess of hair on his head - before turning back to me with a smirk, taking the microphone from me.

The music starts playing, and I grin, almost laughing. "You're too good." I fold my arms, edging closer to her before she starts singing.

_"So Sgt. Pepper took you by surprise_

_You better see right through that mother's eyes_

_Those freaks was right when they said you was dead_

_The one mistake you made was in your head_

_Ah, how do you sleep?_

_Ah, how do you sleep at night? _

_You live with straights who tell you you was king_

_Jump when your momma tell you anything_

_The only thing you done was yesterday_

_And since you're gone you're just another day_

_Ah, how do you sleep?_

_Ah, how do you sleep at night? _

_Ah, how do you sleep?_

_Ah, how do you sleep at night? _

_A pretty face may last a year or two_

_But pretty soon they'll see what you can do_

_The sound you make is muzak to my ears_

_You must have learned something in all those years_

_Ah, how do you sleep?_

_Ah, how do you sleep at night?"_

She slams the mic into my chest, awaiting my next tactical battle move. I walk up to the DJ, still trying frantically to come up with something. I go out on a whim and fuck it, and I turn back to her smirking face.

_"Hey, Venus! _

_Oh, Venus!_

_Venus if you will_

_Please send a little girl for me to thrill._

_A girl who wants my kisses and my arms_

_A girl with all the charms of you, Venus make her fair_

_A lovely girl with sunlight in her hair, and take the brightest stars up in the skies_

_And place them in her eyes for me , _

_Venus, goddess of love that you are,_

_Surely the things I ask_

_Can't be too great a task, _

_Venus if you do_

_I promise that I always will be true._

_I'll give her all the love I have to give_

_As long as we both shall live, _

_Venus goddess of love that you are_

_Surely the things I ask_

_Can't be too great a task._

Her face starts to flushes in embarrassment, and I edge closer to her, singing right to her face with a grin.

_Venus if you do_

_I promise that I always will be true._

_I'll give her all the love I have to give_

_As long as we both shall live, _

_Hey Venus! _

_Oh, Venus!_

_Make my wish come true."_

"You are goin' down." She rips the microphone from my hand, her face as red as a cherry tomato.

"Woo! Kick his fucking arse, Clover!" Johanna yells from our table, along with some cheers from Finnick and Madge.

She turns back to me, placing a small hand on my shoulder, looking me directly in the eye. It takes everything in me not to look away from her intense stare, clearly amused with my discomfort.

_"You keep saying you've got something for me_

_Something you call love, _

_But confess_

_You've been messin' where you shouldn't have been a messin'_

_And now someone else is gettin' all your best_

_These boots are made for walking, _

_And that's just what they'll do_

_One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you._

As she sings, she takes intimidating steps towards me, and I feverishly back up with every inch she closes between us.

_You keep lying, when you oughta be truthin'_

_And you keep losin' when you oughta not bet_

_Keep samin' when you oughta be changin'._

_Now what's right is right, but you ain't been right yet_

_These boots are made for walking, _

_And that's just what they'll do_

_One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you_

_You keep playin' where you shouldn't be playin' _

_and you keep thinkin' that you´ll never get burnt_

_Ha!_

_I just found me a brand new box of matches, yeah_

_And what he know you ain't had time to learn._

_These boots are made for walking, _

_And that's just what they'll do_

_One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you."_

She pokes me in the chest, only centimeters between us. I gulp, trying to stay composed, and plaster one of my infamous smirks across my face. "You win." I say in a hushed voice. The whole club erupts into shouts and woops. She socks me in the shoulder before scowling again and turning on her heels, driving me crazy as her hips sway tauntingly in front of me all the way back to the table.

* * *

**Too boring? Sorry :/**

**Clovelycato555: **Haha! We're polar opppistes ;) Thank you for the feedback!

**Catostrophic-Cloverfields: **Sorry if I got your username wrong... My memory just went blank, ahaha! Thank you for that review; I'm all about suggestions! Keep 'em coming!

**Laughingsince98: **Did this for you, chicka. Ahaha ;) But thanks for suggesting I do it! It was interesting to write from another POV; hopefully it wasn't too bad!


	3. I'll Chop You Down Like An Old Dead Tree

**A/N: I just checked my email when I woke up this morning, and I was greeted by about 7 FanFiction notifications; its not even fit! I love you people. I'd especially like to thank all the Guests for leaving sweet reviews as well as everyone else. You people truly brighten my day, not to mention boost my self-confidence, haha! **

**Special thanks to OdairBear: Ok, first of all, I'm kind of in love with your clever name :3 And second, I really appreciate you reviewing so much, especially because you just followed recently. Newbie! ;) Thank you for tolerating my Irish slang also, (which goes for all of you) I'm desperately trying to tone it down; I've lived in the country for most of my life so I'm pretty terrible for it. **

**Enjoy (only if its good. If not, feel free to tell me and suggest anything. I'm totally for constructive criticism - or any form of criticism at all for that matter, hehe)! **

**-Lennon, bitches.**

* * *

We all sit huddled around the fire, old blankets strewn over us to keep our body heat in, holding crooked sticks with marshmallows poking off the ends over the flames.

"You guys are clueless. This is how its done." Gale remarks superiorly, prodding around until his marshmallow is roasting perfectly over a red-hot coal. He pulls it out, toasted impeccably, a shade of golden-brown. Johanna swoops her hand in and pops it into her mouth.

"Yum." She states, licking the stickiness from her fingers. Gale's look turns somber, and he mopes like a child who can't get candy.

"Take mine." I roll my eyes, pointing my stick in his direction.

"But...Its burnt..." He whines.

"Man up, Donovan."

He reluctantly pries it from the charred tip of my former branch and pops it into his mouth, grimacing slightly.

"You people fucking suck at roasting marshmallows." He says, his words muted slightly from his mouth full.

"I've got music!" Madge shouts enthusiastically from the patio and we erupt into cheers. She makes her way over to the bonfire, clutching her sweater tightly around her waist, my mother's dated ghetto blaster in her hand.

"That thing is older than down the road..." Finnick awes.

"And its bigger than his wife's arse!" Madge adds widening her sapphire eyes, and I burst into laughter, an image of the short and stout woman coming to mind.

"Lemme see." I snatch it from Finnick, and helplessly tune it, but to no avail for a long while. "Wait...Got a station!" I cheer, turning up the volume. I audibly scoff, grimacing at the song that's playing, as Annie squeals in bemusement.

"This is the cheesiest song ever." I dead-pan, recalling those long hours of pure torture when Annie forced everyone to watch P.S.: I Love You.

Cato smirks at me from the right, singing along to "Love You Till The End".

"Stop." I command blatantly.

He continues singing.

"I swear to God Cato, if you don't stop I'll knee you in the balls so hard you'll never be able to have children." He stops short, widening his icy blue eyes in horror.

"Woah." Finnick adds dramatically.

I lean back on Peeta's leg in triumph, smirking at my victory, and continuing to fumble with the ghetto blaster for a better station. I find on one that plays strictly Queen, apparently, and abandon the radio to go get a sweater.

Climbing the carpeted stairs to my room, I change into over-sized sweatpants and a rugby sweatshirt, belonging to Finnick - I'm assuming - in the hopes of keeping warm. When I get downstairs I see everyone sprawled across the sectional, eyes glued to the plasma and eating popcorn, instead of outside as I expected.

"What are you guys watchi- Skyfall!? Fuck yes!" I jump over the couch cushion, landing with a soft thump, my eyes intently watching the new James Bond movie.

* * *

"G'night, bitches. Don't hit that stupid cat on your way home!" I yell through the door, Peeta flips me off at my dig about his poor driving skills. Annie waves sincerely, and Katniss offers a half-hearted smile.

"Later, motherfucker!" Finnick yells, sticking his torso out of the sun roof as Peeta starts driving away. I chuckle and close the door behind me, leaning against it before slowly making my way up the stairs and to my room. I collapse in bed, enveloped in the warmth of my duvet, falling asleep in ten seconds flat.

* * *

"Clover!" The tired voice of my mother echos through the house.

"Clove darlin', get up. You've got basketball in an hour, then gym. Make sure to pack everything, I shan't be drivin' all the way 'cross town jus' to give ye yer jersey." She says in her thick Cork accent, her small figure appearing in my doorway. I wave my hand, shooing her away, and mumble something un-intelligible, still half-asleep.

My sister barges into the room, her small 13 year old body clad in a swimsuit. She places her hands on her non-existent hips. "Get up! You have to drop me off at Sandy Cove on your way to ball, you twit."

"Sassy." I tease, a grin penetrating the expression on my face that clearly reads insomnia. She socks me in the shoulder, and I'm too tired to make a fist and fight her back. "Whatever, I'll be ready in a minute, now get the fuck out of my room." I blurt, pushing her out the door.

20 minutes later, I bound down the winding staircase, slipping around the large foyer and to the kitchen in my socks.

"Hi mum." I greet, taking a piece of toast right from her hand.

"Bye mum." I plant a quick kiss on her cheek, sending her a grin over my shoulder as I grab my sports bag from its resting place on the entrance rug, slipping on a worn pair of sandals that are two sizes too large.

I find Lumen already waiting in my '83 Lesabre with her legs propped up on the dash, eating an apple. "Hey hey. What do you think you're doing? No eating in my baby!" I announce, sarcastically stroking the steering wheel. She rolls her eyes, taking another excessive bite.

"Whatever. You look ming by the way." She adds with a sweet smile, her raspberry-stained lips parting from her grin. I roll my eyes, reaching back on my seat to back out of the driveway.

"So...Where do I have to take you again?" I ask with a blank expression, swerving to avoid the paper bag I thought was a cat.

"Sandy Cove beach." She replies, as if it were the most commonly known fact in all of Europe. I give her a mere nod in response, distracted by a familiar boy jogging down the street.

"Give me your apple."

"What? No. Why?" She squints at my odd request and I scoff, taking it from her tiny hand and whipping it out the window, hitting my target dead on.

"See you at practice, blondie!" I yell out the window, getting the satisfaction from seeing his puzzled expression turn into one of Katniss's scowls. _She doesn't know the effect she can have..._ I remember Peeta telling me once. I'd never been good with the whole 'feelings' thing, but apparently I was the most trustworthy person he knew back then.

_5 years earlier_

_"Peeta!" I call enthusiastically, running to him. He picks me up and spins me around before setting me down next to Katniss again, who's got the cheekiest grin plastered across her face. _

_"You did awesome! Kicked some major butt." He smiles genuinely. He turns to my olive-skinned best friend. "You did um... Really good too, uh, Kat-Katniss." He rubs the back of his neck, a blush betraying him._

_"Thanks Peeta!" She smiles, showing the slight gap between her two front teeth, before Madge drags her away, to the canteen - I'm assuming. We start walking down the empty hallways, which are always like a ghost town after our annual Talent Competitions. _

_"Why don't you just admit it, Peeta? You've liked - no, __**loved**_ _- her since...forever! Why is it so hard?" I ask, looking at his meek expression, furrowing my eyebrows._

_"Its not that simple Clove."_

_"It is that simple, Peeta." I mimic, not knowing what he's getting at. "What are you afraid of? Getting an answer? Because I could ask her for you-"_

_"No, Clove-" He cuts me off. "I'm not afraid of the answer. I'm afraid of the rejection." His face falls, shaggy blonde bangs covering his eyes, now filled with doubt and the commencement of tears. _

_"I'm sorry..." I finally admit, breaking the seemingly ever-growing silence since we'd started walking again. _

_He sighs. "Its ok, Clover." I pat him on the back, hoping to somehow make him feel less... Well, less like crap._

_"Let's go get some food; I could eat a horse right now. Race ya!?" I brighten, trying to lighten the mood. His sadness contorts into that competitive side of him. "You're on!" He shouts, racing me all the way to the snack bar._

"Clove, this is my stop."

"Huh? Oh." I nod, flicking on my turn signal and easing down the dirt road that leads to the large pond.

"Pick me up at 8!" She yells over her shoulder, bounding through the light underbrush and scattered trees, her hazel eyes alight with excitement. I shake my head, a slight smirk on my face, and drive the rest of the way to the school intoxicated with the sounds of Janis Joplin and the obnoxious noise my truck makes due to the missing muffler.

* * *

"Ay! Street sweeper!" Finnick yells, jogging over to me as I sling my bag over one shoulder, slamming the rickety door shut.

"Oh shut up, Finn." I roll my eyes, cringing as he slings his sweaty arm around me.

"So, I hear you ambushed Cato with a half-eaten apple earlier today."

"Obviously." I flip my hair over my shoulder sarcastically. "Now leave me alone, I have to change, then we're kicking your butts." I click my tongue, winking, and head to the locker room. I pull on some shorts and change my jersey.

"Alright, pretty boys. Time to get fucked up." I announce, skipping over to the court - which is really just a slab of pavement marked with paint to identify half-court and the key - outside of our school.

"Match up, bitches." Jo exclaims as her and Katniss get up from the bench, Kat taking Peeta, and Jo guarding Finnick. I look up at my man and smirk.

"You're going down, blondie." I say, squaring up for jump-ball.

"We'll see. I still haven't forgiven you for that whole apple attack, dwarf face." We level our arms next to each other's, and as soon as that ball goes into the air, I jump as high as I can, well aware of the height difference. I swipe it from his reach barely, and whip it behind me to Katniss, who immediately outruns Peeta and gets an easy lay-up. I turn around, smiling back at Cato, and Katniss shoves the ball into his hands.

"Your ball." She remains stoney-gazed, but I know what she's really thinking as she struts past him, taking her position as a trapper parallel to Johanna. I stay close behind Peeta, and when Cato feeds him the ball I pressure him to the left, where Johanna quickly blocks his path to our basket.

"Peet!" Finnick yells, wide open, flailing his toned arms around like a monkey.

"Finnick you look like a fucking gorilla!" Johanna yells, distracting him enough for Katniss to intercept the pass, leaving Cato behind, and bolting down the court, passing the ball to me. I quickly get a bank shot - my personal favorite, next to foul shots, of course.

"Your ball again." I smile, chucking the ball to Cato. This time we don't trap, which was probably a big mistake. They pass it quickly, too high for our reach. We're tall, but Johanna's the tallest girl at only 5.9 and a half. Me being 5.6, and Katniss 5.8, we're usually taller than all of our opponents. _Except our opponents are usually 17 year old girls... Not practical __**men.**_

"Oh! Swish!" Finnick boasts after his second foul shot - thanks to Johanna jumping as she blocked his last lay-up.

"32 seconds left and you guys are down by one point... How ironic?" Cato says smugly, wagging his eyebrows at me.

"You'll be eating those words in the next 32 seconds, dickweed."

"I will, will I?"

"That's what I just said." His expression hardens, and he narrows his eyes, nearly knocking the wind out of me with his abrupt pass. "Take it out." He snaps, still being cocky.

I smack my hand off the ball, desperately looking for someone to pass it to. "Get open!"

_3..._

I fake to the left, hoping to distract Cato enough to buy me some time.

_2..._

"Clove!" Katniss yells, elbowing Peeta in the arm and popping out.

_1..._

I pass it to her fiercely, sprinting after her as Finnick gains on us. "Katniss!" I open my arm, accepting the frantic pass, and stop dead in my tracks, squaring up in no time, and shooting from outside the three-point line; _just_ before the buzzer goes off.

* * *

"Suck our non-existent penises, motherfuckers!" Jo boasts, gyrating.

"Johanna, that's quite disturbing...Instead of humping the air, why don't we make them buy us dinner?" Katniss grins evilly, nudging her in the arm.

"Sounds like a _splendid _idea." I concur, disguising my Paddy accent with a posh, city twang.

I jump onto Finnick's back. "We win. So you're now my primary form of transportation. Giddy up, man-whore."

"Oh fuck you." He rolls his eyes, propping me up so I don't slip, and humbly walking to my truck, much to my amusement.

* * *

**Too short? Sorry. I had a basketball tournament this weekend and too much pointless homework - Thank you Mrs. Costigan, I really appreciate having to read 4 boring chapters of 'Noemie et le Boite Mysterieuse'** **in one night. I was also thrown from my horse...For the third time this week... And I cut myself on one of my arrows - I'm just a bundle of luck!**

**And my father just threw a dead rabbit on me. Feelin' the love, Daddio.**

**-Lennon mwah.**


	4. Michelle, Ma Belle

**This chapter's a bit emotional, just a warning. :3**

**Just to clarify, I'm totally un-happy with a lot of the previous chapters, and I feel that I was writing completely crappy, and not putting effort into it. **

**I may or may not delete this and start a new story; we'll see. No promises.**

**-Lennon**

* * *

"Turn here." I state flatly, climbing out of Finnick's truck and jogging through the light underbrush, the trees growing scarce and allowing me access to the rocky beach ahead.

"Lumen!" I exasperate, seeing her head pop up from the water. "Time to go."

She whines. "Can't I stay?"

"You said to pick you up at eight."

"Its seven fifty nine!"

"Exactly."

She rolls her dark eyes, reluctantly climbing out of the water and bidding a goodbye to her friends as she collects her towel and beach bag with a huff.

"Finn and the others are parked out front."

I slam the door shut, waiting for her to stuff her things in the trunk. She pops up, leaning her head on her hands from the back seat, behind everyone else.

"So... Where are _you _guys going?" She smirks, wagging her eyebrows.

Finnick chuckles; my sister could always get a laugh out of him no matter what she said. She's the driest 13 year old girl you'd ever meet.

"We're going to do some grown up things." Cato remarks with a smirk.

"I'm sorry, who the fuck are you, Thor?" She gestures to him with her thumb.

Everyone roars with laughter, Johanna resorting to wiping a tear from her eye.

"Thor?" Cato raises his eyebrows.

"Yes. There's Fish man," she points to Finnick. "Lover boy," gesturing to Peeta, who blushes insanely. "Catnip, Johanna Banana, and Georgegasm." I bury my face in my hands at the last nickname, which was deemed mine just recently, after Cloverfield got too 'boring'.

Lumen looks him up and down for a while before opening her mouth again, her face still completely serious. "Maybe I should change _your _nickname to Lover boy, too."

Cato blushes, widening his eyes slightly, before sinking down into his seat.

"You just got told by a 90 pounded 13 year old." Finnick smirks at him through the rear-view mirror as we pull into my driveway.

"Later, bitches. Mom's going to go crazy bat shite... Catnip, you're in charge of my funeral!" She calls, sprinting into the house after Kat gives her a thumbs-up.

* * *

"Are you fucking serious?" Johanna deadpans as we pull into the Quiznos parking lot.

"Hey, you guys are lucky we're even buying you food. In case you haven't noticed, I don't really have any cash burning a hole in my pocket." Peeta defends, pulling the pockets of his cargo shorts inside out.

"Free sandwiches, motherfuckers!" I yell, hopping out of the car and running into the franchise like a psychopath.

"Turkey bacon guacamole; without the tomato, red onion, or turkey breast, and instead of ranch dressing I want honey mustard. Substitute the bottle of water with a large coke."

"Clove... Are you serious?"

I nod enthusiastically at my complicated order.

"You're killing me." Peeta says, pulling bills out of his pocket and handing them to the irritated cashier, who's glancing at Finnick with a come hither stare. I furrow my eyebrows, noticing his horrified expression, and walk over to him, throwing my arm around his shoulder playfully, planting a kiss on his cheek. The employee directs her glare towards the cheese after this.

"Saved your arse." I mumble into his ear, taking my sandwich from Peeta and skipping happily out with the others, settling down on a worn picnic table; the rusty red paint chipping off and legs decaying to the point of no return.

"So," Peeta starts, taking a bite of his sandwich. "School starts again soon."

"Don't remind me." I groan, sipping my cola obnoxiously through the striped straw.

"Brace yourselves," Johanna pauses dramatically. "Another year of short skirts, hormones, and bitch-slapping is coming."

I snort, adding to her banter. "Not to mention those stupid dances."

"They're not stupid." Peeta defends, clearly wanting to win Katniss over our last year of highschool.

"Whatever you say, Lover boy." I counter, popping an olive into my mouth. He blushes slightly, glowering at me, and glancing at Katniss - who's too busy picking the tomato off of her sandwich to acknowledge our conversation.

"Meow." Finn teases, making a claw with his hand for emphasis.

"You guys are all fucked in the head." The blonde brute scoffs, throwing his water bottle into the trash.

"I'll take that as a compliment." I beam wildly, getting up and dusting the loose paint chippings off of my shorts - thanks to the aging picnic table. "Later, bitches." I call over my shoulder, walking back to my house, objecting Finnick's offer to drive me.

"The view is better from here, anyways." He calls, and I glare at him over my should, licking out my tongue fiercely.

* * *

"Mum?" I call, skipping around the corners of the large house.

"Muuuum?" I drag on, poking my head into her room.

"Hello? Lumen? Mom?"

"In here, Clover..." Mother's voice is solemn, laced with guilt. I round the corner to the large parlor that connects my mother's office to her room.

"Guys?" I raise my eyebrows, eyeing Lumen enveloped in my mother's slim arms, her tiny face buried in her chest, muffled sounds of sobs escaping her pale mouth.

"What is it?" I slowly cross the room, relishing the feeling of the hand-woven rug that rests on the bamboo flooring between my toes. I sink down into the couch next to them, placing a hand on Lu's shoulder, my heart wrenching and worry growing with each shudder that passes through her.

"Its your father, Clover..." A darkness envelopes me; her tone is anything but hopeful.

"Is he home?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"No, Clover. Your father won't ever be home."

The words sting my soul, and I feel myself crumbling.

* * *

_This doesn't feel like I thought it would, Daddy. It doesn't feel like they portray in the movies. It feels like crap. Complete crap. _

_Words can't describe it; sorry for the cliche. I don't feel anything right now, Daddy; I'm hollow. I don't eat anymore, I don't sleep anymore, I don't think anymore. _

_You were my rock._

_You understood me._

_And now you're fucking dead. Gone. I'm never going to smell the woodsmoke that always seemed to envelope you when you'd hug me. Never going to see the crinkle of your eyes when you smile if I said something funny. Never going to feel your arms wrapped around me._

_And you're never going to see me. _

_Never going to see me grow up, achieve my goals. I hope you were proud of me, Daddy. I really do. If you weren't, I'm sorry for letting you down._

_You know what's funny, Daddy? I haven't cried yet. I've just sat. I haven't moved from this spot since I came home on September 1st, 2013 at 4:38pm. _

_I'll never forget that date; its imprinted in my mind. Burning a hole through my brain. _

_I haven't talked. At all. _

_Mum's the strong one now, but she keeps telling us that we're strong; we're the Vikings. _

_Anyways Daddy, today's your funeral, so I had to write this. I probably would've written you something anyway; just to feel closer to you. _

_I know we were never a religious family, Daddy, but..._

_Bless the Peacemakers. _

_That's what everyone's been saying; but it doesn't mean anything to them. They're just paying their condolences, saying what's socially acceptable. _

_I remember when I was little, you'd always sing that Beatles' song to us; Michelle._

_I guess it was because that's Mum's name, but I didn't care. _

_The only thing I do now is play that song._

_I knew you loved her, and she always loved you back. You guys had a bond, it wasn't anything romantic, never any of that crap. It was always... Friendly. You guys were always joking around, and you'd always hug her. I don't think I ever saw you kiss; only on your wedding day. You guys weren't like that; and I liked it._

_But now she's empty, just like we all are. You left us, Daddy. I know its not your fault, but I don't know what else to say. They haven't told us how you died yet; they just said you were doing your job._

_I'm glad you weren't one of those fucking military men; that'd be stupid. _

_But you weren't stupid, Daddy. You were smarter than anyone I've ever met._

_I wonder if there really is a Heaven or a Hell. _

_If there are, I'll never see you again. I know you're in Heaven, if there is such thing as that Utopia. I'm just certain that's not where I'm going._

_Do you remember that book you always used to read to me?_

_Love You Forever._

_Well, I'll love you forever, Daddy._

_I just wanted you to know that. _

_**I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my Daddy you'll be.**_

I finish reading, looking down into the depressed faces of these... _People_. These people that just don't get it.

I walk off the podium, not looking at anyone. I break into a jog, then sprint, right out of the room.

I stop abruptly, taking off my shoes and running with them.

I run all the way across town, nothing but the sound of my feet slapping against the pavement, and the occasional honk of a horn, followed by a rough voice cursing me out for darting in front of their car.

I run home, all the way home. All the way back to where Lumen and Mum are sitting; on the rug in the parlor, listening to 'Michelle'.

I was the only one who went to the funeral, but I didn't want to. I just knew I _had _to.

I curl up next to them, sitting Indian-style, the loose cotton of my long, white dress flowing down to my ankles.

"We're going to be ok." My mother says, staring at the wall.

"We're not like that. We're the Vikings, remember? We're strong."

I nod, resting my head on her shoulder, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of sandalwood that we all smell of.

I toy with the ends of her waist-length, black hair, and she wraps her arms around me and Lu, absentmindedly drawing invisible patterns on our pale skin, connecting the freckles that are peppered everywhere.

"We _are_ the Vikings." Lumen breathes, looking up at me. "Especially you, Clover."

* * *

**Meep. Feedback? Eh... Should I re-write the entire story? :)**


	5. Castle On A Cloud

_~2 months later~_

_Dear Daddy,_

_Today was the first time I got out of bed willingly since you died. We've still been playing 'Michelle' all day, everyday, but I don't think its a coping mechanism anymore. I mean, sure, we all miss you like no one could ever imagine, but the guilt and the pain have subsided vaguely; just enough to turn us into robots:_

_Wake up_

_Go to school _

_Come home_

_Eat scarcely_

_Go to bed_

_Or in my case, Daddy; lie in bed all night thinking of how completely fuckballs this whole situation is. _

_I think you should know that I stopped caring entirely. I mean, sure, I still do exceptional in school, but you always said that came naturally to me, to you, to __**us**__. _

_I still dance though, Daddy. Don't worry; someone's got to carry out your tradition. And basketball is one of my passions; no matter how depressed I get, nobody can take that from me._

_I hope you're not mad at me for that. If you are, I'm sorry, I just couldn't find the will to do things that used to be my entire life, my supplier of happiness and fulfillment, but seem so minor now. So unimportant. _

_I guess I gave up. No, not gave up completely, just a little. I don't care about how I look anymore, I don't care about how I dress or what people think about me; I guess I just don't give a fuck._

_I got a tattoo. Its a tiny winged bird on my collarbone flying towards my heart. Its you, Pops._

_My whole life feels like a cliche now. Nobody comes by to say; "Bless the peacemakers." - which we all thought was stupid, anyways. People have stopped bringing us disgusting casseroles and tins of brownies though, so that's a plus. I think people have just forgotten. _

_Either that or they've run out of flour._

_I should probably just clue this up now._

_Well, bye._

_Sincerely,_

_Your little Viking_

I fold the note carefully, taping the aging paper of my father's old leather bound journal onto the glossy red balloon, and letting the string go; the gentle October breeze taking it to that imaginary castle on a cloud.

* * *

I've gotten used to the concept of death.

That doesn't mean I like it.

Everyone's got to die sometime, some just less fortunate a death than others.

"Hey, Clover." Katniss sighs, her tone solemn, just like everyone else's has been since my father died.

"Hi." I mumble, lacking human emotion.

She slaps her lunch tray down next to me at the circular table, Peeta and Annie quickly joining us.

"Where's everybody else?" I ask, pushing away my full tray of food.

"Ms. Trinket made them stay late to put up banners for the dance next Thursday," Peeta replies, his worried gaze drifting from my decreasing frail body to the un-touched pasta and fruit in front of me. "You've got to eat, Clo..."

"I'm not hungry."

He sighs with exasperation, rubbing his temples.

"You know," I start, everyone's eyes glued to my face. "it'd be better for my situation if you guys acted normal." I lean back in my chair, teetering on the edge; just like my father on the brink of death. We always knew it would happen one day; speaking out against corruption, like he did. It didn't get you anywhere but six feet under.

They all look at one another, their face registering an oxymoron between confusion and understanding.

"Are you sure? I mean... If we just blew it off like it was nothing... We know how close you were with your father..." Annie trails off, trying to form an acceptable sentence.

"I'm fine, guys. I mean... Obviously I'm not _fin_e but, I can handle it. Please just... Don't pity me."

What Katniss does next catches me by complete surprise. Neither of us are one to show our emotions; but I guess when the time comes, you've got to stick together.

She gets up from her seat swiftly, pulling me into a tight embrace. "I know what its like." She mumbles into my hair, barely loud enough for me to hear.

"Thank you, Kat..." I remain stoney-gazed as she pulls away, scotting her chair closer to mine.

She lost her father before she really even knew him, being only 12 at the time, and he was hardly ever home, due to working on an oil platform somewhere off the coast of Newfoundland.

"Ms. Trinket just has me put up posters everywhere for a fucking _dance._ I mean, I have nothing against them but, _why? _Isn't that what an intercom's for?" Johanna squeezes in between us, Cato and Finnick trailing behind her, navigating their way through the labyrinth of scattered tables and overturned chairs.

Jo was the only one who actually helped me through my previous rut, whether she was intending to or not. Her arrogance makes everything seem like a joke, a dig, something light-hearted to pull me from that deep hole, from the old Clove's final resting place; six feet under.

"You guys better go to that dance, or all my poster-pasting would've been for nothing." She continues, licking her spoonful of vanilla pudding clean. Everyone instinctively looks to me, their eyes wide and careful.

"What?... I'll go to this stupid dance if you guys want to," I lean on the table, popping a grape into my mouth, squirting it satisfyingly. "Unless you'd rather I be wallowing in my bedroom, neck deep in depression and anti-socialism."

* * *

Third period goes by quickly, to be frank, and I slam my locker shut with my bony hip, gathering the necessary items to prepare myself for the next 2 hours of Hell with Mr. Crane.

"Clove?" Cato's large figure stands before me, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

"What do you want, dickweed?"

"Just to say that," He analyzes my face carefully. "I'm sorry for... Being such a dickweed since... Well, forever."

"Good for you." I continue walking, the breeze of the air conditioner snaking its way down my spine, sending chills through me. I pull my sleeves down, covering the exposed, goose-pimpled skin.

"That's not how you do it." I state bluntly, folding my arms.

"I know what I'm doing, Clove. Shut up." My lab partner counters, shakily trying to pour the slightest bit of glycerol into Mr. Crane's requested mixture of potassium permanganate and water.

"You're going to melt your eyebrows off."

"I'm not going to melt," He turns to me, not paying attention to how much glycerol is dripping into the beaker full of florescent pink. "my eyebrows off." He turns back to the smoking beaker, panic contorting on his face, attempting to douse the flame by opening the window next to us, the cool autumn wind enveloping me in a thick, frigid blanket.

"You're just feeding the fire."

"What the Hell did you do?" Mr. Crane exclaims, dramatically throwing his hands into the air.

"I told him he was doing it wrong."

"Shut the fuck up, Clove!" He gives me a seething glare, baring his teeth, which looks pretty ridiculous.

"Mr. Brown! Such vulgarity will not be tolerated in this school!" Crane rips a slip of paper from his pocket, shoving it into the enraged student's hands and sending him to the office.

* * *

"Well today had an interesting turn of events..." Madge states, touching up the mascara that has streaked onto her eyelids throughout the course of the day.

"Tell me about it. Noel nearly blew our faces off in Science. The dunce..." I mutter, swinging my legs absentmindedly, perched on the marble counter in the large ladies' room.

Eventually, everyone started coming around, acting as they usually would. There's still that ever present elephant in the room, but this is a process.

Johanna bursts in, forcefully dragging Katniss - who's tripping over her own feet - with her by her arm.

"Guess who's going to the dance with Peeta?" Jo smirks coyly, playfully socking her on the shoulder.

"Jeez... Calm down, he didn't fucking ask me to marry him."

"In do time, my dear." Madge teases, earning herself a slap upside the head. "Violence is not the answer!" She huffs, relieving her purse of a tissue, tediously wiping the smudged makeup that rims her sapphire eyes.

"So... Is it... Halloween-themed? The dance, I mean..." I ask, toying with the ends of my hair - which has been so neglected these past few months it reaches my waist in frizzy, uneven tendrils.

"Considering its on October 31st, yes..." Jo states slowly, eyeing me as I drift off into my own little world.

_"Michelle,_

_Ma belle..._

_I feel as if I'm on top of the world, on top of my father's strong shoulders. Reaching up to pick an apple from the tree looming overhead. _

_"Cloverfield!" My mother's disembodied voice calls in her normal honey sweet tone. I search for her with my wide green eyes; still full of innocence and uncertainty of the things to come. _

_"Gotcha!" She exclaims, grabbing me from behind. I shriek, giggling along with her, laying on her lap as she weaves dandelions from the field into my hair as I contently listen to my father strum on his guitar, mumbling every now and then to a song I don't know. _

_I bite into my apple, scrunching my face up in a grimace at the sour tang stings my tastebuds, the juice running down my forearm. _

_...These are words that go together well,_

_My Michelle."_

"Clove?" Johanna snaps her fingers in front of my face, grasping me and pulling me from that state of mind.

That state of mind I long to be a reality.

"I'm gonna go..." I hop off of the countertop, scuffing my ballet flats and dragging my messenger bag behind me, not bothering to give an explanation.

I feel eyes on me as I walk through the nearly empty hallways, navigating my way through the maze of lockers and stairwells.

"Clove?" A familiar rugged voice calls; the same rugged voice belonging to the blonde boy I've grown to tolerate in the slightest. "Clove, Hold on."

I just keep walking, pushing open the heavy atrium doors with as much strength as I can muster, my arms feeling like noodles.

I finally get to my aging house; the aubergine paint fading after the long days and nights of continuous wet weather. Turning down that _same_ driveway with the _same _two cars parked there on this _same_ gray day wearing the _same fucking school uniform_.

I trudge through the backyard, plopping down onto the lush grass that's nourished thanks to the fine summer that has long passed. Peeling off my stupid gray blazer, I discard it somewhere in the garden, along with my shoes, and lean back, lying in the grass with nothing on but a plaid skirt and collared shirt.

I don't go inside when my mother asks me to, I don't go inside when the sun diminishes, replaced by a full moon. I don't go inside when the rain starts flowing freely from the loose clouds above, pelting down and soaking me to the bone. I don't go inside when I start shivering or when my teeth start chattering.

I'm _carried_ inside by my olive-skinned best friend, strategically placed in my bed with care, and cocooned in the thick flannel bedclothes, keeping my eyes closed when sleep doesn't find me, even long after the morning sun has come and gone.


	6. Somebody With A Human Touch

**So I've taken quite a leave of absence... But I have a very good reason! Kinda. Long story short, it involved the emergency room a few times, but I'm fine now. I also had a skating competition and an acrobatics show that required more time to be put in than usual, as they were big events. **

**But I'm back now (obviously.)**

**I have some **_**giant fucking colossal ideas**_ **for this story, but I'm pretty sure you guys would loathe me for actually carrying most of them out... **

**So, since I don't want to ruin any 'surprises' (in case I use them), I won't ask you if its a good idea or not.**

**I already no its a firm no, but...**

**Oh well. No promises, enjoy!**

* * *

_Dear Daddy,_

_This one's going to be short. I have people watching over my shoulder. _

_Thanks for having chicken scratch writing, by the way. At least they can't read what I'm scribbling down._

_So, I started to try and go back to the way everything was, but its too difficult. I know you said never to do it, nobody would ever understand except for mother and Lu, but I can't be something that I'm not anymore. I'm doing things I want to do, like floating in the pool all night, or crunching the leaves up to be carried away by the wind. Things that feel like __**me**__. I think you dying had something to do with it; the resentment of how much of an injustice this is cracked me in half, and the new Clover flourished and broke free from her old, thick mask of being just another insignificant._

_Maybe it was meant to be, or maybe I'm just watching too many 80's movies. Who knows?_

_I wish you were still here right now. I've got problems. Boy problems. And I thought since you're of the male gender, you'd be able to help me out a little bit. Looks like that idea's gone down the drain..._

_What fascinates them about us? Girls, I mean. And don't give me any of that Adam and Eve crap, Dad. Especially now. Everyone keeps staring at me with...lust. These eyes like a ravenous beast of prey. Like they want to try and fix me or something. Try to put my pieces back together. _

_Does being suicidal make someone more attractive? If it does, then people need to get their priorities straight. _

_Sincerely,_

_Your Viking._

I lay aimlessly on the window seat in our parlor, my limbs tangled and legs folded, trying to make space for myself. Watching through the window as the rain pours relentlessly from the gray clouds, pattering against the wet pavement, I sigh. A longing washes over me; a longing for something I can't make sense of, but my body obliges. I get up, padding barefoot down the hallway, and walk out of my large home, leaving the door open to swing freely in the light breeze.

I divulge in the feeling of my toes sinking into the wet grass and sloshing puddles that litter the garden, and I lay down under the large ash tree that my father planted years ago, letting the soft rain drip down through the thick leaves and onto my face.

"Hey, Clover!" A familiar voice chimes from next door.

* * *

I lie on my back, head resting on Gale's chest, listening to his heartbeat that's keeping time with the persistent tick of the grandfather clock looming in the corner of the room.

"What'd ya wanna do today, Cloverfield?"

"I wanna play something," I sigh, crawling to the edge of the room and pulling my father's guitar into my lap, cradling it in my minuscule arms.

"I wanna hear something you've written," Katniss sits up, putting down a tattered book with a loose binding.

I nod faintly, wracking my brain for something I've written recently. My fingers clench around the neck, plucking the strings and barely being able to reach and form a C chord, and I just strum harshly, intoxicated with a euphoric feeling that comes with every note that's played...

_"I don't know where it ends,_

_'Cuz I've never found the start._

_There's a boy with a gun_

_Pointed at his own heart._

_He likes to stay up late,_

_And greet the morning sun._

_He reads books about the war,_

_And how we've forgot tons._

_We're all scared,_

_But we're breathing..._

_There's a girl in a bedroom,_

_She feels like an ocean._

_She remembers playin' after school_

_When she looks at her own son._

_We're all scared,_

_But we're breathing..._

_We're all scared,_

_But we're breathing."_

My voice cracks as I crescendo, each lyric sending a shudder through me, and I breathe heavily, pulling my knees to my chest. Katniss quickly stumbles over from the edge of my bed clumsily, enveloping me into a loose embrace.

"Wanna watch a movie?" she pulls away, surveying my frizzy hair and pouted lips. I nod wearily, following my two best friends downstairs.

I sprawl out onto the couch, one leg resting freely on the coffee table parallel to me.

"I'll text the others. We could have a movie night," Gale states reassuringly, kissing the top of my head before following Katniss upstairs to make some popcorn.

Only minutes later, the swing of my front door rings through the entire house, followed by hushed murmurs before someone finally makes their way downstairs, the evident thump of footsteps padding down the carpeted stairs acknowledging their presence.

Although I'm quite surprised when Cato sits down next to me, eyeing me cautiously with his hardened expression and relentless blue eyes.

* * *

**(Cato's POV)**

I watch her through the corner of my eye, realizing how much she's crumbled. She's lost weight, and that's obvious with the tight tank top she's wearing. But I've realized something these past few months; No matter how skinny she gets, she'll never look weak. Never _be _weak. Its true what she said at her father's funeral, she's a Viking.

And nothing's going to change that.

"Hey, Lisbon girl..," Peeta smiles warmly at Clove as he comes downstairs, sitting down on the other side of her and gently laying his hand on top of hers. I'll never understand Clove or her relationships. I know she feels things differently, more stronger than I do. She reads between the lines of everything. She's so intimate with everyone; Finnick, Peeta, Marvel, Gale especially...

Yet there never seems to be anything going on with them, no matter how hard they try to break down her barrier, they fail, and eventually give up trying to win her affection which is so easily given to them, even though she doesn't realize they ever wanted something more. As if its completely platonic to kiss one of your best friends.

"I'll go get a movie," Peeta squeezes her hand gently, jogging lightly back up the stairs to retrieve a suitable DVD.

"Better not get a chick-flick!" She calls after him in protest, folding her legs under her small frame.

"No promises!"

The silence is killing me, like a heavy rainfall; adding guilt and emotions I've never felt before with each drop that ricochets off the wet pavement.

"Talk to me," Clove finally speaks, and I realize she's moved closer, kneeling with her petite arms folded. Her hot breath on my neck unnerves me, and the gold flecks in her otherwise cold, fern green eyes seem to study my every move.

"About what?"

She scoffs. "Even _you're _not _that_ stupid, Cato. There's been an elephant in the room every time we've talked since you asked me to the PunchBowl. I know what your intentions were."

I weakly hold her gaze, fidgeting under her stare.

"I'm not one to beat around the bush, so what was that?"

When I don't answer she tenses up. "Do you really want to play games with me right now? That seems like a _good_ idea to you?" she edges closer, our noses practically touching.

Nobody has this effect on me, I'm _Cato Regan_. Girls are the ones that are supposed to trip over themselves just to make _me_ look their way. Clove angers me, makes me feel like I'm tearing myself apart sometimes. She can be so annoyingly modest and naive, but other times, just when its least convenient, she's sharp and doesn't misinterpret one single move.

She gets my blood boiling and my heart beating all at once. Pushes me over the edge and keeps me sane. Makes me want to kill her and kiss her at the same time. Like beautiful abuse.

I narrow my eyes. "Does _this_ answer your question?" I take her perfect face into my hands, pressing my lips against hers, relishing the feeling of her close to me.

The feeling I've longed for and pondered over for countless hours.

And the odd thing is, she doesn't pull away.

* * *

**I know that was the shortest chapter in the entire universe, but I have had major writer's block, and I just didn't want you guys to think I was dead or anything... Y'know...**

**Although, I assume the intensity of this chapter will satisfy your cravings ;)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games! All rights go to Suzanne Collins, blah blah. The only thing I own in this chapter Clove's song. **

**10-4**


	7. I Love The Broken Ones

**A/N: So... Basically, I've deleted most of the earlier chapters because I was very disappointed in them. Normally, I wouldn't justify that as an excuse, but I have another good reason! **

**At least, I think its good. **

**I felt that they weren't even significant, and that I was very out of character with the Clove I have portrayed (and desired to, for that matter) in the later chapters. The deleted ones also didn't have any real, well, **_**content**_**. **

**Kill me if you want to, x to da o.**

* * *

_Hey, Dad._

_I've wrongfully avoided him since that day in Gale's basement. That day two weeks ago._

_I know I shouldn't make a big deal out of it, after all, it was only a kiss. I've kissed Peeta and Gale and even Finnick._

_But this kiss was different. It was different because I knew it meant something to him, and nothing to me._

_The other ones were just friendly, like thanking Finn for mowing the grass or congratulating Peeta after a rugby game. _

_I feel terrible that I don't reciprocate his feelings, that he's written me notes and called me countless times since then, yet I just brush him off. _

_Its not like we have anything in common, anyways. We're both athletes, sure, but I'm interested in evolution and philosophy; while he likes cars and cares about just passing English. _

_I'm a poet and he can't even figure out what Robert Frost meant in Nothing Gold Can Stay. _

_I like to dance in the rain and I don't accept the world that has been handed down to me; so full of flaws._

_I race the sun down in the morning and the moon up at night, but he just rides._

_I know I'm going to have to talk to him eventually, but just not yet._

_Sincerely,_

_Your confused Viking._

* * *

"Clove!" He calls as I slam my locker door shut, relieving it of a few text books and an apple, clasping it between my teeth due to lack of hands.

"Clove Casey, if you do not stop and talk to me right now I will _profess my love_ for you in front of everyone in this fucking hallway," he states bluntly. I turn around slowly to face his devilish grin, knowing he has the upper hand.

He kneels down on the blue and white checkered tile, straightening his tie and clearing his throat.

"Clove Eugenia Sampson Casey, you are the light of my life, the air that I breathe, you make me want to be a better person and-" he stops short after I march up to him, harshly yanking him by the ear to the back door, and kicking it open with as much force as I can muster, the frigid October air hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"What do you want?" I huff, throwing my apple onto the frost

-sprinkled grass, pulling my school-regulation blazer tighter around me and leaning against the railing, in hopes of evading the chilling wind.

He draws patterns on the concrete steps with his shoe, creating an irritating scraping noise that fills the silent tension between us as he studies the wads of gum and tiny pebbles that litter the ground.

"Stop it. That's annoying," I mumble, propping myself up so I'm sitting on the cool metal railing, swinging my legs freely.

"There's really no being diplomatic with you, is there?" He retorts, grinning sideways and lowering his gaze to his shoes once more.

"The least you could do is keep eye contact, Cato." I sigh, hopping down from my perch and marching over to him, lifting his chin. His smile returns and he chuckles slightly.

"What?" I furrow my brows, folding my arms.

"I never realized how green your eyes were before," his grin widens, not tauntingly, but almost as if he can't control it.

I feel the heat rising to my cheeks, even though that wasn't even remotely embarrassing or coy.

"Now, talk to me." I bid, hoping the colour has drained from my face as normal.

"Ok," he starts, his tone expressing he doesn't know where to begin. "Well... I want another chance. To, uh, you know... Kind of start over."

I ponder his request, eyeing him in this fragile state that's so unlike the Cato Regan that I formerly knew. The Cato Regan that was the captain of the boy's rugby team, the popular guy, the one that had a new mutt **(Irish slang for chick/girl; wherever you're from) **every weekend.

The new Cato Regan is oddly unsettling.

He rubs the nape of his neck awkwardly, hanging on the thick silence between us, anxiously waiting for my answer.

"Nothing gold can stay," I utter, tucking my hair behind my ears and meeting his eyes. Fire versus ice.

"Huh?"

"Nature's first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; but only so an hour. So Eden sank to grief, so dawn goes down to day," I edge closer to him, my gaze not faltering as he observes me. "nothing gold can stay."

I search his eyes for a minute, and uncover longing and breaking.

_I love the broken ones_, my father once said. _The ones who need the most patching up_.

"If you can figure out that poem, you'll earn yourself another chance." I murmur, turning swiftly on my heel and sauntering back into the school.

_Cato Regan, I'm going to fix you._

* * *

"And now, taking us back to our original argument," Mr. Abernathy slurs, dropping the whiteboard eraser at least three times in his usual hungover state, "evolution did indeed occur."

"Mr. Abernathy?" A feminine voice squeaks from the back of the class, belonging to a girl with viridian eyes and flouncy blonde hair, raising an expertly manicured hand.

"Yes, Schwimmer?" He struggles to keep his eyes open, plopping down into his mobile chair.

"Its Glimmer," she quips, clearly irritated. "And I was going to say that I don't believe in evolution. I'm Catholic."

Her comment unintentionally earns a few snickers and a snort from myself and Katniss opposite of me.

"Good for you, sweetheart." Haymitch garbles.

She huffs, leaning back in her chair with her arms folded across her - particularly large - chest.

I furrow my eyebrows, rotating around in my desk chair to face her. "What the hell does religion have to do with evolution?" I question, tilting my head slightly to the side.

"Adam and Eve," she spits, narrowing her eyes.

I widen my eyes, raising my hands in mock-surrender and slowly turning back around in my chair, trying not to piss my pants right then and there in amusement.

"What ever happened to Genesis?" I hear Marvel question from my left over the loud snoring of Mr. Abernathy from the head of the classroom.

"That's all bull," Glimmer defends blatantly, her tone suggesting she's ready for an argument.

"I'm an Atheist!" A random voice shouts, belonging to a lanky dark-haired boy whom I've never met.

"Do you celebrate Christmas?" I ask him, leaning back in my chair and biting the tip of my pen.

"Yes."

"Then you're not an Atheist. Christmas is marked as the birth of Christ." I smirk triumphantly at his seething expression.

"Here we go again with Clove and her Agnostic words of fucking wisdom," Johanna teases, flicking a wad of paper at the back of my head.

"I'm just saying!" I defend with a giggle, feeling eyes on me. I turn to my right, meeting Cato's amused stare. I flash him a short-lived grin, turning back around the face Mr. Abernathy, who's pleasantly snoozing with his head resting on the stacks of papers that clutter his desk.

The obnoxious ring of the bell interrogates my ears, cutting through the warble and banters of adolescent voices.

* * *

"Wait... You told him _what_?" Katniss shrieks, swerving to avoid a pothole.

"I told him I'd let him take me out if he could figure out Nothing Gold Can Stay," I raise my eyebrows, taking a sip from my fountain drink.

"Dude..," Jo exasperates, slapping a hand to her forehead. "you guys are polar opposites. He's black and white and you're all the shades of gray in between. He's never going to understand that poem, and you guys are never going to go on a date."

"Exactly," I poke my finger at her.

"That's cold, Clover. Even for you," she retorts, rolling the window of Katniss's car up and down aimlessly.

"I'm not looking to be his new fuck buddy," I glare at her through the rear-view mirror.

"I know you're not, but just _what_ _is it_ that you want to be?"

I sigh, leaning back and sinking into the plush seat and taking another prolonged sip of my ginger beer. "I don't know."

* * *

Late that night, I'm scrunched up in my large, canopied bed with Lumen beside me, enveloped in the warmth of my blankets and flipping through the channels on the telly.

"There's nothing good on," she whines, cocooning herself tighter into the quilt.

"In it's defense," I settle on a program about a mother and daughter living in a rural town in America, "it _is_ three-thirty in the morning."

She chuckles lightly and I smile to myself, turning back to the television.

The incessant trill of my phone cuts through the comfortable silence between us like knives in a fist fight. I fumble around on my nightstand for a while, my vision still splotchy from staring at the TV for so long. I check my cell's screen, identifying an unknown caller, and hesitantly pick it up. After all, it could be mum calling from her business trip.

"Hello?"

"Youth, beauty, innocence," A familiar rough voice, clearly laced with insomnia, erupts from the speaker of my phone. I gesture for Lu to turn the television down, and I plug my other ear, walking out of my bedroom.

"What?" I ask cautiously, leaning against the pale, earl grey walls of the upstairs hallway.

A hearty chuckle is heard from the phone, followed by a delayed response. "The poem, Nothing Gold Can Stay? I figured it out. Its about how nothing good can last forever, like youth or happiness. It all comes to an end."

I can hear the triumph blatantly in his otherwise tired voice, and I sigh, defeated, running a hand through my thick hair.

"Fine, Cato... You win."

"I never lose," he deadpans, I can basically hear the smirk in his voice. "So, about that fresh start?"

I bite my lower lip, thinking, while goosebumps appear on my skin, thanks to my lack of pajamas - underwear and a tank top. "One more chance, Regan." I mutter, hanging up the phone and creeping back into my room, crawling under the covers and appreciating Lu's radiating body heat.

* * *

**Sorry that was also short as hell. I have no current inspiration, blegh.**


	8. You'll Rise Up Singin'

**Yay! Terribly sorry for the long wait - almost more than a week, I believe! **

**I humbly apologize, your royal highness...es...**

**Anyways, thanks for your continued support! Loaf you people.**

_**TheUnrulyBallerina**_**: That's because I deleted the first few chapters of this story previously, as I wasn't entirely content with them. So technically, you are indeed reviewing chapters 10&11. They're just not numbered as that anymore. Hehe, sorry for the confusion. **

**Oh, and just a heads up, songs written by Clove in this fic are actually my own... Don't even think about plagiarizing any of them. I will cut you.**

**-Lennon**

* * *

_Dear Dad,_

_I currently have no news. Me and my boring life, huh? Well, I'm writing this in the tree you planted so many years ago..._

_This is going to be a very short letter to you, because I'm pretty sure I have three hours until the sun rises and I have to go back inside. Its four o'clock in the morning and I'm sitting in a tree. I guess I'm a little more fucked up than we originally though, eh? I've been quite lazy these past few days, and Janis Joplin's Summertime has become the soundtrack to my life. _

_Before I conclude, I wrote a song. I may or may not have written it in this tree... _

_I know that I'm not the first,_

_Though I think we are all habite-less._

_I am a century torn._

_So reach out in shame,_

_Finally born._

_The blood in my body,_

_Is starting to move._

_Like so many lovers tryn'a make their way through._

_To visit building walls,_

_To realize their own._

_Alone._

_I remember that airport,_

_And I fear that its love haunts._

_My home._

_Its pain is so wide._

_You know its hard, when the words don't matter._

_The blood in my body,_

_Is starting to move._

_Like so many lovers try'na make their way through._

_To visit building walls,_

_To realize their own._

_The blood in my body,_

_Is suddenly moving._

_Like so many lovers try'na make their way through. _

_To visit building walls,_

_To realize you're alone._

_Sincerely,_

_Your emotionally challenged Viking._

I lay crumpled in an awkward position, a tangle of pale limbs, on the widest branch of the looming Hawthorn tree that's immaturely placed on our front lawn. Its a clouded period of my life, and the only sun and clarity I find is in the intenseness of my misery. Masking depression with hostility and irritation really takes its tole after a while.

_Lucky I'm a good actress._

I hear the faint sound of a window creaking open above the melodies eliciting through the early morning birds. A head pokes out groggily.

"Cloverfield, you ought to put some more clothes on unless you wanna catch pneumonia. Last time I checked there's snow on the fucking ground. Gale yells from his house next door, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

I smile faintly, sitting up against the trunk, admiring the realness of the harsh bark against my back. Realness is foreign to me now, after these months of being out of touch with reality, being a dreamer. "Why don't you worry about yourself for a change." I holler back. "What're you doing up at four in the morning anyways, Hawthorne?"

He shrugs, smirking. "Worrying about you, of course."

I roll my eyes and simper after the words are seemingly carried over to me by the chilling blush of wind. "You're drunk."

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

"Liar," I titter, hopping out of the tree and making my way across the cold ground to the door, left slightly agape. "_Goodnight_, Hawthorne." I chime, swinging the door closed behind me.

Putting that free spirit behind me, aswell.

Putting my barrier back up, and my mask back on.

* * *

"When's he coming?" Katniss asks, her words muted slightly, courtesy of her mouthful of ice cream.

"Huh? I don't know... 7, I think..." I mumble, trailing off as I flick through the channels, hanging upside down on my bed.

"Why have you finally decided to give this boy a chance after so long?" My mother asks with a slightly amused grin, appearing in the doorway.

"Because he won a bet." I reply, not taking my eyes from the television screen.

"Clove sure is compassionate, Michelle." Johanna smirks from the opposite side of my bed, earning a faint chuckle from my mother and a blow to the stomach with my pillow.

Mum steps into my room, raising her eyebrows. "You're wearing _that_?"

A small smile inches its way across my face, and I almost laugh. "Yes, mother. What's wrong with it?"

She rolls her eyes, laughing lightly as she exits.

Ten minutes later, Lumen beckons me downstairs.

"Clove!" She calls, and I hear the door swinging shut. "Loverboy's here!"

I roll my eyes, flicking off the television and skip down the stairs, Johanna and Katniss trailing amusedly behind me.

I greet him quickly and sling my bag over my shoulder, grabbing a jacket.

"Mum, I'm gone." I bid flatly, lacking emotion, and follow him out to his car, waving to Katniss and Johanna slightly as they leave before us.

"Where are we going?" I ask, tuning his radio helplessly as we pull out of my driveway.

"Somewhere," he replies with a smirk, grasping the back of his seat and checking the rear view mirror. His gaze falls to me and he reaches across to the glove compartment, pulling out a CD and handing it to me.

I almost laugh, popping the disc in. "I didn't figure you to be a Joan Jett & The Blackhearts kinda guy."

"Looks can be deceiving." He raises his eyebrows coyly, nodding his head along to I Love Rock and Roll. I eye him with a grin, laughing lightly.

"I made you laugh! I'm considering this a victory, just so you know." He smiles toothily, flicking on his turn signal.

I roll my eyes, watching the trees and buildings fly by in a blur of green, blue and brown.

* * *

I raise an eyebrow as we pull into a vacant parking lot that leads to the Salthill beach.

"Might I ask why we're here when its the first of November?" I question, following him across the road to the long stretches of sand separated by outcrops.

"I don't know... You don't seem like the type to think of a date as making out in the back of the pictures." He smirks, turning to me.

"Damn straight, skippy." I concur.

He looks at me with a funny expression, grinning like a fool. "What?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Never expected those words to come out of your mouth."

"Because I'm a girl?" I fold my arms, stopping in the middle of the boardwalk.

"No," He smiles playfully. "Because you're cute."

I roll my eyes, slapping him harshly on the shoulder. "Another compliment or attempt at an endearing comment and shite's gonna hit the fan."

_Looks like some of the old Cato Regan has returned. _

We walk in silence, and I listen to the sound of the waves rolling in and out, the whiz of the cars zooming past, and the irritating swiping sound his jeans make whenever they clash with each other.

"Well, say something. I hardly believe that Cato Regan doesn't know how to talk to girls on a date." I smirk, nudging him in the arm.

"There usually isn't much talking going on when I take a girl on a date."

This wipes the self-satisfied expression clean off my face, replacing it with a furious blush and a quickly averted gaze. He chuckles amusedly, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"Anyways..,"

* * *

We sit in his car, parked outside of an ice cream parlor, making ridiculous small talk of no real meaning. I watch the sun drift across the pale orange sky, penetrating through the thin clouds and shining out over to ocean opposite of us, glittering like a shiny new record.

"So," I start, poking into my ice cream. "any more surprises in store for me?" I smile lightly, licking my spoon clean of its pink, frozen treat.

"You'll see." He smirks back, starting the engine. I pout, reluctantly abandoning my ice cream by dunking it expertly in a trash can nearby from the car window.

"Showoff." He smirks, looking at me through the corner of his eye as we zip past the harsh street lights and Sunday drivers.

We make a turn down a small off-road, bumping along on the neglected pavement littered with potholes, and weeds sprouting up from the edges of the street. A few meek houses are left in our wake as we drive, the only part of their small stature visible in the night darkness being their chimneys, with the smoke seemingly illuminated against the black backdrop.

"Where're we going?" I quiz, rolling down my window and hanging my arm limply out of it, feeling the bone chilling winter breeze spreading through me like a disease.

"Somewhere..,"

"Over the rainbow?" I finish for him sarcastically, with an ironic smile as big as Texas.

He glares at me playfully, a smile dancing across his lips, despite his best intentions to hide it.

;::;

After driving down another three little gravel roads, he stops the car abruptly in the middle of seemingly nowhere, shifting the gear into park.

"...Where the fuck are we?" I raise an eyebrow, popping my head back in the window after investigating, but to no avail.

"Follow the yellow brick road, Dorothy." He smirks, getting out and slamming the door behind him. I roll my eyes, scoffing, and quickly un-button my seatbelt, skipping to catch up with him.

"I thin we're done with that." I simper.

He shrugs in response, and I open my mouth to say something, but stop short when he pulls back the hanging foliage of a large weeping willow that looms in front of us, revealing a lake that glistens under the moonlight and reflects the stars in each ripple of its steady pace.

* * *

The stars start to spark into life in the chill winter sky like fireflies dancing on a riverbed. The wind rolling through the trees, sending a flurry of golden leaves tumbling through the air around us sitting on the river bank with upturned faces. My breath was turning to smokey ice on the wind with each sweet gulp of crisp oxygen. I feel my eyelids getting heavier with each blink, and I soon find myself curled up on the thick, frosty grass next to an amused Cato.

"Well aren't you affectionate today.""No," I grumble obstinately. "I'm just tired... And," I cut off with a prolonged yawn. "to be honest right now, this grass is the comfiest fucking this I've ever layed on."He smiles, chuckling heartily. I growl irritatedly as he ruffles my hair fondly.

"Alright, little bastion of loathing." Cato gets up, wiping the loose dusting of snow off his pants, then reaches a hand down to me. I awkwardly accept it, for the sole purpose of being too lazy to get up myself (of course), and he pulls me to my feet. "Let's get you home."

* * *

**LOLTHATWASOCHEESY.**

**Sorry, I suck at writing fluff/romantic scenes...**

**Bye!**


	9. Update: I know you hate me Muah :

**Well...**

**Its been quite a while, hasn't it? 2 months, I reckon. I'd like to give you guys an update of what I've been doing for the past... Well, forever :3**

**First of all, this fic is currently on hiatus, as is one of my others; ****_I Spy with My Little Eye... _****I'm sorry for extreme lack of updating, but hounding me in PMs won't make the chapter come any faster. Its around 85% finished, but I truthfully haven't been feeling well for a long while. I'm not going to go into detail and tell you my sob-story. No.**

**I do apologize, and I guess I should give all you lovely people some sort of an answer, so, in chronological order, are the reasons I haven't updated basically ****_anything _****for so long:**

**- I started watching Torchwood and Sherlock. You people should know that I'm one of those people who's content being alone ****_all the time _****(I kid you not; I haven't been out or had a friend over in more than 7 months), so I watch a lot of stuff on Netflix...**

**- I got a Tumblr a few months ago, and let's be honest; its pretty addictive.**

**- I also have a Wattpad, and I've been catering to my stories on there more-so than good ol' FanFiction.**

**- I'm going to be blunt about this next one; depression.**

**- Schoolwork, and lots of it. Way more than usual.**

**- Basketball. We've been having tournaments non-stop across the province.**

**- Family issues.**

**- Some of my relatives came home over Easter break and we went out of town for a while, so I haven't had the time.**

**Overall, I just haven't been feeling up to it, and I really don't want to give you guys a piece of utter shite for a chapter just because I'm lazy and un-inspired.**

**It makes me smile that I'm still getting more followers, favourites, and reviews on this fic and all of my other ones. If you'd like to stay updated on what I'm doing, my Tumblr is ****_the-wizard-of-oswald_****. Please, proceed with caution. I curse a lot, and my blog certainly may not be tolerable by everyone...**

**Thanks.**


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